


Stealing From The Crow's Nest

by IBK



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Baby Arthur, Daddy Dutch, baby john - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 15:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17603750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IBK/pseuds/IBK
Summary: From all your kind comments some of you have been asking for some little John Marston, so let's see what kind of trouble Arthur and John can get into.





	Stealing From The Crow's Nest

"Arthur, I don't wanna do this," Six year old John Marston whined, as his ten year old brother dragged him by his tiny wrist down an unknown path. "Arthur! Dutch is gonna get mad!"

"It will be fine, John. Dutch won't even know we're gone," Arthur assured, as the two brothers traveled down the forest covered trail. "Quit bein' a baby."

"I'm not a baby!" John squealed, as he tried to yank his hand free. "You're the baby."

Arthur blew a loud raspberry, "Says the kid whose afraid of water."

"Hey! That's not funny."

"It's pretty funny, poor little Johnny can't swim."

"Shut up!"

Arthur stuck out his tongue and made silly faces while teasing, "John can't swim, John can't swim."

John growled and attempted to punch his annoying brother, but every time he tried Arthur got out of the way, "Shut up!" He cried, as Arthur laughed at him. "Or I'll tell Dutch you we're bein' mean again!"

Arthur rolled his eyes, "You're such a cry baby John. I'm just playin' with ya, jeez."

As they walked, John yanked his wrist away from Arthur, yet he stayed by his side while they continued on the trail. It was a beautiful day; the sun was shining, there was a peaceful breeze and small songbirds sang their sweet melodies in the sky. With their gang growing with population, Dutch and Hosea had their hands full and couldn't keep their eyes on the boys, as much as they used to. That made it easy for the boys to slip out without anyone really noticing till they returned.

But, somedays they weren't, as lucky like that one time the boys ran off into the woods one night and got attacked by a family of raccoons, Dutch wasn't very impressed. Or that other time Arthur and John ran off without telling anyone and hid behind some trees just to watch Dutch nearly have a heart attack when he noticed his boys were gone. Dutch was a kind man, but Lord did he know how to use a leather strap. 

"Arthur," John mumbled, as he tugged at his brother's shirt. "I wanna go back to camp."

Arthur sighed, "We're not even far from camp, you can still see it, but if you wanna go back to camp go. More treasure for me than."

"Treasure?" John questioned, as he tilted his head curiously. "Like shiny stuff?"

Arthur looked down at John and smiled, "Yeah, shiny stuff. I heard Hosea talkin' about it. There's this bird...a crow I think who steals gold and hides it in it's nest."

"Which tree is it in?"

Arthur shrugged, "Not sure, but Hosea wouldn't stop talking about the wildflowers surrounding it, so look for that."

"Okay," John said, as he began jogging ahead. "I bet I can find it before you do."

"Is that a bet?" Arthur asked, as he picked up speed.

"Yeah...it's a bet!"

"Winner gets losers bread from dinner for a week."

"Deal!" John squealed, as he took off like a bunny down the path. "I'm gonna find it first!"

"No you won't!" Arthur teased, as he darted off right behind his brother. "Hey! Don't go too far!"

The brothers ran around like their boots were on fire, as they searched ever tree fat or thin; they checked every tree. During the search their mission slowly turned into a game of peekaboo behind a tree. Arthur would hide behind a tree and John would try to find him till Arthur jumped out and scared him which ended with both of them squealing with laughter. With childish glee they weren't sure how long they were gone, but the sky was blue when they left, now it was pink and the forest was covered with a light shade.

Arthur turned back in the direction of the camp and saw a small fire burning which made him smile, "See John, nobody cares," He chuckled, as he nudged John's shoulder. "I...I bet no one knows we're gone."

John nodded, as he scratched his greasy head and turned around to face the forest. Searching the forest grounds something bright caught John's eye. A garden of flowers all red and orange sprinkled around the thick trunk of an old tree.

Excited, John tugged on Arthur's sleeve and pointed at the flower covered tree, "Arthur! Arthur look!"

Letting out a quick sniffle, Arthur looked at John and then what he was pointing at. Arthur gasped in excitement, as he looked down at John who couldn't hide his proud smile.

"Does this mean I get your bread?" John asked, as he held onto Arthur's sleeve.

Arthur chuckled, as he ruffled John's messy hair, "Its yours, Johnny boy."

The boys raced to the old tree jumping over roots and rocks till they smacked their hands onto the ruff bark. They giggled with raspy breathes and leaned against the tree for balance.

"I beat you," John panted, as he poked at Arthur. "I win."

Arthur chuckled, as he looked up at the mighty tree, "R-race you up?"

Without even nodding, John leaped up and tried to climb, but slide right down and landed on his rear with a thud. The boy yelped in pain, as he rubbed his sore backside, as Arthur snorted.

"Dammit, that hurt!" John cussed, as he got to his feet and brushed off his pants.

"Hey, watch your mouth!" Arthur scolded, as he flicked John's head. "Don't let Hosea catch you talking like that!"

"Whatever...can you help me up?"

Sighing and shaking his head, Arthur locked his fingers together and kneeled down, so John could step up, "On three, I'll hoist you up, okay?"

"Uh huh."

"Ready?" Arthur asked, as John placed one foot in Arthur's hands.

"Ready!"

"1...2.....3!"

With a grunt, Arthur lifted John high enough where the boy could grab a sturdy branch and pull himself up. Kicking his legs, mud and pebbles flew from his muddy boots onto Arthur's face; who grunted in displeasure and took a step back. Finally, getting himself into the tree, John found a flat spot to stand and wait for his brother who already started his climb.

"Come on, Arthur," John encouraged. "You can do it."

"Shut up," Arthur chuckled, as he carefully pulled himself off the ground. "I can't climb if I'm laughing. Can you see the nest?"

John almost forgot what they were looking for and started looking around. It was the middle of summer, so the trees were covered with their beautiful green leaves that made seeing anything but leaves difficult. Watching his footing, John looked around for the nest through the branches and palm sized leaves till he was bumping elbows with Arthur. 

"Don't fall," Arthur instructed, as he gained his own balance. "Watch your step."

"Okay."

"I'm bein' serious," Arthur grumbled, as he grabbed onto John's skinny arm. "I don't want to explain to Dutch how you fell out of a tree and broke your face."

"I'll be careful, Arthur," John promised, as he held his head up high. "What bird was it again?"

"A crow," Arthur answered, as he shoved leaves out of his face. "All black and funny sounding."

"How funny sounding?"

"Like...Micah trying to sound smart."

John covered his mouth to conceal his laughter, but when Arthur joined in they enjoyed their laughter. They both hated Micah, he was the older brother no one asked for from his rude behaviour to his violent outburst, no one knew what that boy was capable of. Dutch always said Micah came from a bad home a real messy situation, but Micah always wore a creepy smile when he did something bad.

"There!" Arthur suddenly called out, as he pointed to a twig constructed nest about the size of a loaf of bread...when it wasn't made by Mr. Pearson. Arthur was the first to climb towards it. The nest wasn't too high it was placed between to close branches that held the nest in place. 

"I'll check it, you stay here," Arthur instructed, as he started climbing. "Can you see the camp, John?"

Looking out, John almost got dizzy at the sudden height change he had yet noticed. From the forest floor only the smoke from the firepit could be seen, now John could see the whole camp. The roofs of the tents were now in sight , as John cupped his hands around his eyes like binoculars. 

"I can see the camp," John said happily, as he continued to watch. "I see the tents."

"Is anybody coming this way?" Arthur asked with a bit of concern in his tone.

"I...don't think so."

Arthur didn't respond, as he continued his climb. John kept watching the camp and pointing out everything he saw till he spotted Miss Grimshaw running up to Mr. Pearson.

"I see, Miss Grimshaw!"

"What's she doin'?" Arthur asked, as he turned in the direction of the camp.

"She's talkin' to Mr. Pearson," John said, as he kept an eye on her. "She's talkin' with her hands again."

"Aw jeez," Arthur moaned with a chuckle, as he turned his attention back to climbing. "Mr. Pearson's probably bein' lazy again."

The boys just chuckled at one another till Arthur finally reached the nest. Peeking in, Arthur gasped in surprise at the sight he saw. Rings, bracelets, earrings with a few bottle caps and silver buttons, the boys were laughing. Arthur started stuffing his pocket, as John cheered.

"Dutch is gonna be so proud!" John said with a grin. "Good idea Arthur!"

"We have Hosea to thank for his story telling, but- Uh oh."

John looked up at his brother, "What?" He asked, as he tilted his head. "What's wrong?"

"Theres eggs in here," Arthur whispered, as he slowly climbed down the branch. "Eggs John."

"You didn't touch 'em right?" John questioned, as he remembered what Hosea had told them. "Right Arthur?"

Suddenly, the ear piercing squawk of a bird startled the boys. Nearly snapping their necks, the boys looked up and spotted the angry crow flying their way with its claws aiming right at them. The wing span of the mighty bird looked bigger than John's entire body, and it didn't look to happy with two boys touching its nest. With no time to hop out of the tree, Arthur jumped on top of John and used himself, as a human shield, as the crow smacked Arthur with it's wings and pecked at his back.

John couldn't understand what was happening it all happened so fast all he knew was Arthur was holding onto him dear life, yet when Arthur cried out in pain, John knew something was wrong. With tears of terror spilling from his eyes, John called out.

"Dutch! Dutch!"

The boy's cries matched the same tone as the crow, but his voice carried. Arthur's grip tighten, as the crow pecked harder and harder nearly piercing his shirt. With Arthur on top of him, John couldn't see the camp anymore, but he inhaled deeply and cried out.

"Hosea! Dutch!" John sobbed, as he something wet hit his shoulder. "Help us!"

Arthur cried out in pain again, but he refused to let go of John, even with his back burning at a million degrees, he'd rather die than let that bird peck at John. 

"Go away!" Arthur cried, as tears scrolled off his face. "Leave us alone!"

"Dutch!" John screamed again, praying someone would hear them. "Hosea!" 

A horse cry in the distance made John jump, but he called out again, "Help! Dutch! Please help us!"

The sound of horses marching sounded like a thunderstorm and made John's heart race. He knew they'd be in trouble, but he'd rather be yelled at then listen to Arthur cry in pain any longer. In the corner of his eye a majestic white stallion along side a smoky gray horse made John cry with joy.

With their pistols in their hands Dutch and Hosea came marching in like the bandits they were. Dutch was the first to fire at the aggressive bird, but didn't hit it. After the bang the crow was startled and flew away fast, as the horses approached. The boys didn't move they were so shaken, Arthur hung onto John with a trembling grip, as both boys whimpered softly.

"Mr. Matthews, what do we have here?" Dutch questioned sarcastically, as he returned his pistol to its holster and turned to his old friends.

"It seems, Dutch," Hosea stated, as he too put his pistol away. "We have found two lost babes stuck in a tree."

"Any of you boys wanna explain what's going on here?" Dutch asked, as he moved the Count closer to the tree. "Because I'd love to hear it."

Dutch looked furious like a stick of dynamite on a short fuse just waiting for a spark. His eyebrows were arched so low they looked like they were about to snap. His normal friendly and warming eyes had the burning rage of hell itself, and his lips were stuck in a mean lookin' frown. And the look of disappointment across Hosea's face could break any soul, he almost looked as hurt as Arthur did.

Arthur turned away from his adopted fathers, as he tried to wiped away his tears and got off of John, "Y-y-you okay?" Arthur whimpered softly, as John sat up on his elbows. "Are y-you hurt?"

"I'm o-o-okay," John sniffled, as he nodded to Arthur. "Th-thanks Arthur."

"Mr. Morgan and Mr. Marston," Hosea scolded deeply. "We'd like an answer today, please."

"The bird," John mumbled, as he pointed to the nest. "T-the bird."

"What about the bird?" Hosea asked in a harsh tone.

"I'm hurt Dutch," Arthur cried, as he turned to Dutch with tears spilling. "I'm hurt."

Dutch's eyes widen in surprise, as he gave Hosea a quick look before returning his attention to Arthur, "Where are you hurt son?"

"My back, Dutch," Arthur answered, as he pointed to his back. "The bird bit me."

With a heavy sigh, Dutch turned the Count to his side, so he could reach the boys. Reaching his hands out Dutch groaned, "C'mere big boy," Arthur didn't hesitate to leap into Dutch's arms. "Now, Hosea could you grab our little brown bear while I check Arthur's back?"

As Dutch moved out of the way while holding Arthur with one hand, Hosea butted in and held his hands out to John, "Come on troublemaker, jump down."

Bending his knees, John jumped into Hosea's arms and clinged to him tightly, "I'm sorry," He apologized, as Hosea patted his back. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize yet, son," Hosea stated coldly. "Save it for later."

As Arthur laid against the Count's white mane, Dutch pulled up the boy's shirt exposing his shivering back. He hummed and huh'ed while inspecting the boy's skin.

"What are we looking at Dutch?" Hosea asked, as John hid his face in Hosea's neck. "Broken skin?"

Arthur cried into the Count's mane, as Dutch lowered the boy's shirt and tenderly patted his back, "Nope, no wounds," He sighed in relief, as he picked up his son and rested him against his chest. "He's more wound up than anything, he'll be alright."

Hosea let out a thankful sigh, as Dutch began the ride home.

"You boys really gave us quite the scare," Hosea started, as John held him tighter. "You had everyone worried."

Neither boy responded.

Arthur pressed his face against Dutch's chest listening to the grown man's heart beat which was racing faster than Arthur thought possible. The boys knew they were in trouble that's why the didn't speak because they knew by speaking they'd only dig a deeper grave. Dutch just shook his head, as Hosea continued to scold them for running off till they reached the camp.

"We found them!" Dutch announced, as the sound of gasping relief filled their ears. "They're shaken up, but their alright!"

"Oh, you silly boys!" Miss Grimshaw cried out, as she approached the horses with her purposeful stride. "You had us scared to death! Why I oughta smack both your bottoms for scaring me like that!"

Both boys hid their embarrased faces from Miss Grimshaw, as she continued her verbal attack. Dutch put his hand up calmly and silenced her.

"Its alright, Miss Grimshaw their fine and I'll be dealing with them, don't you worry. They won't make this mistake again."

She just shook her head and crossed her arms, as Dutch and Hosea hitched their horses, and climbed down with their boys in hand.

"You....silly boys," She repeated, as Arthur and John's feet met the ground. "You...you had me all worked up."

Suddenly, Dutch placed his hands on top of the boys heads, "I will handle it, Miss Grimshaw."

With a sniffle, Miss Grimshaw turned heel and stormed off. 

Dutch turned to Hosea, "Thank you for your help, Mr. Matthews, but I'll take it for here."

"Always a pleasure, Dutch," Hosea nodded, as he tipped his hat and walked towards his tent.

Before another word could be spoken, Dutch booted both boys in the rear hard, "My tent, now," He growled, as the boys quickly began their march. "And I don't wanna hear a word from either of you."

Without a noise, Arthur and John darted for Dutch's tent one after another, as Dutch walked behind them with his hands behind his back. The sound of Dutch's fast approaching spurs sent shivers down the boys spines and quickened their pace. They entered the tent like sheep into the slaughterhouse: shaken and afraid of what was yet to come.

Calm classic music played on Dutch's record player, but everything was but calm, as Dutch closed the cover of the tent and stared his boys down. Dutch's eyes were burning holes in their souls, as he glared with his arms crossed. 

With another sigh, Dutch pinched the corners of his eyes and kept them shut, as if he were holding in an outburst. Arthur and John stood side by side with their knees shaking.

Quietly, John grabbed Arthur's hand in fear and held it tightly not caring if he'd yank it away, John was scared and needed comfort. Surprisingly, Arthur gave John's hand a comforting squeeze, as if he was telling him "Everything will be okay, I'm here."

Dutch saw what his boys were doing and he got down one knees which made John latch onto Arthur's arm in terror. This was it, whatever Dutch was planning it was gonna happen right then and there.

You could cut the tension that night with a knife, as Dutch had a stare down with his sons. 

Suddenly, Dutch wrapped his arms around his boys and pulled them into a tight embrace, "You naughty boys," Dutch exclaimed, as he squeezed his boys tighter. "You naughty naughty boys."

The boys were stunned, but they accepted the hug and quickly returned the affection without a second thought. Dutch kissed the top of their hands, "Never do that again, do you hear me?"

They nodded.

"Promise me, boys," Dutch blurted out. "Say that you'll never scare me like that again."

"We promise, we promise!" They cried, as they sobbed into Dutch's vest.

"You boys...are the most precious things in my life and...if I lost any of you, I couldn't live on. I grieve myself to death."

The boys apologized till they couldn't breathe and their little faces turned bright red. For some reason Dutch let out a chuckle, as he combed his fingers through their hair. When the boys finally caught their breath, Arthur was able to pull himself away and reach into his pocket.

"H-here, Dutch," Arthur hiccuped, as he pulled out the riches from his pocket. "This is what J-John and I found...in the bird's nest."

Placing the jewelry in Dutch's large hand and forced a smile hoping it would make their leader happy, but when Dutch tossed them carelessly aside, they knew they were doomed.

"You two are more valuable to me than any gold or shiny rock," Dutch put forth, as he embraced them again. "And don't you ever forget that, do you hear me?"

"Yes, Dutch," They boys said with smiles on their faces.

Finally, pulling away from the embrace Dutch looked down at them, as a single tear rolled down his cheek which he quickly wiped away.

"Are we forgiven?" Arthur finally asked, as he fidgeted with his hands.

"Always, son," Dutch chuckled, as he pitched Arthur's red cheek. "What kind of father would I be if i couldn't forgive a mistake?"

The boys looked as if they were about to faint, but as they held onto one another they kept themselves standing. Believing they were done, Arthur took John's hand and headed for the exit till Dutch spoke out.

"Do you remember that verse Reverend told you boys the other day by any chance?"

They stopped, looked at one another, as if they thought the other knew the answer before they looked back at Dutch. They shook their heads no, as Dutch stood up with an unsettling grin across his face.

 "Proverbs 13:24," Dutch taunted, as Arthur's mouth fell open while John remained confused. Suddenly, Dutch wrapped his hands around his leather belt, "He that spareth his rod hateth his son: but he that loveth him chasteneth him betimes.”

The little lightbulb instantly went off in John's head, as Arthur dropped his head in defeat.

"Oh, shit!"


End file.
